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Grabbing strands, I slammed the vortex shut, but to my horror the two men were already at least fifteen feet above the ground. The arcane wind dropped to nothing, and they let out shouts of alarm as they stopped rising and tumbled down. I released the crimp
in the potency hose and shoved power into the squishy-cloud-mitt-pillow even as both hit it. They slowed abruptly, then landed with a thunk on the concrete.
“Are you guys okay?” I called out as I anchored the wild flows.
Idris lay with his arms and legs splayed, staring up at the sky, his chest heaving. Bryce sat up and rubbed his shoulder. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
“I’m so sorry!” With sharp movements, I dispelled the shikvihr. “That didn’t exactly go as I’d expected.”
Idris rolled to his side, spat out blood, then shifted to sit crosslegged. “What a ride! I’ve never seen a portal like that before. And cool work with the impact cushion.”
I let out a weak laugh and plopped to sit. If it was new and different, Idris was all over it. At only twenty years old, he possessed an insanely keen knack for the arcane. He’d cropped his halo of blond curls down to a short and tidy style since I’d last seen him, and a selfish, wistful pang went through me at the sight. Not the sweet, innocent boy anymore. He looked years older now, features stronger. Coupled with his tall muscular build, he gave off a distinct “man to be taken seriously” vibe. Which he was, especially with Rhyzkahl for a daddy. Not that either of them knew.
I turned to Bryce. “You okay?”
Bryce stretched his arms out, nodded. “I’m good. The rough landing was more of a surprise than anything.” He stood up then grinned as I gaped in shock. “You think it’ll do?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, still staring. Idris had cut his hair, but Bryce . . . I knew it was Bryce only because he’d come through the vortex. His previously brown hair was now jet black, and there were subtle changes to his facial structure as well. Higher, broader cheekbones. A cleft in his chin. An aquiline nose. Even his overall skin tone was somewhat darker.
“That’s incredible!” I said in astonishment. “And, hot damn, this sure solves a problem that’s been bouncing around in my brain.”
Bryce chuckled. Voice was slightly different too, I noted. “You mean that whole ‘wanted by the law’ detail?”
“That’s the one,” I replied with a smile. Though Paul had stripped electronic records of himself, Bryce, and Sonny from Farouche’s files before he sent them to the Feds, there were plenty of incriminating paper records remaining. “Who did the work?”
“Elofir and Seretis,” he said as he gave Idris a hand up. “Neither had ever done anything like this before, so I’m glad I ended up with something resembling a face.”
His smile widened and his voice held a fascinating warmth when he spoke Seretis’s name. Interesting. According to Mzatal, Bryce had spent the last week in Seretis’s realm. Great friends, or more? Though Seretis was bisexual, I’d been under the distinct impression Bryce was as heterosexual as they came. Whatever the situation, Bryce looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, despite having been shoved through a wormhole between universes . . . and despite being separated from Paul.
“Do you have a new name to go with your new face?” I asked.
“New last name only. Taggart.”
I gave him a teasing smile. “Afraid you’d forget to answer to Ignatius or Wally?”
“I’d refuse, not forget,” he shot back.
“What about fingerprints?” I said more seriously. “All it would take is an overachieving Fed to hear the name and wonder about a Bryce hanging out with me.”
He waggled his fingers. “The lords took care of that too.” Then he laughed. “As long as the lords didn’t accidentally match them to a suspect on the most wanted list, I’m good.”
“You sure seem to be,” I said. “The only way to nail you would be with a DNA comparison, and if you’re not already in a database that’s even better.” I gave him a questioning look, relieved when he shook his head. “No scars either,” I noted as I peered more closely. “Zero evidence of plastic surgery. You’re golden.”
I looked over at Idris and found that he’d efficiently tidied up the residual potency while I admired Bryce’s new look. “Thanks, dude,” I said with a smile, then picked up his duffel and slung the strap over my shoulder. “Least I can do is be your pack mule after dropping you like that. Let’s get y’all settled, and then we’ll catch up on news.
“I figured I’d let you have the basement,” I continued. “My summoning chamber takes up half of it, and Ryan turned the rest into a little man cave.”
Idris nodded, expression stony, then surprised me by taking his duffel back. “Katashi. Jerry Steiner. Aaron Asher.” His grey eyes darkened as he named the three men who had ritually raped, tortured, and murdered his sister Amber. Anger radiated from him like heat from a furnace, reminding me unpleasantly of a demonic lord’s aura though nowhere near as strong. “Do you know where any of them are?”
Yes, he was definitely one to take seriously. “The Feds and local authorities are looking for Jerry,” I told him, calm and clinical. “Last sighting was at a local hospital the day after the plantation raid, and then he dropped out of sight. I’ve heard nothing on Katashi, but I’m narrowing down possibilities for where he might be based in this area. No news on Asher either, and I suspect he might yet be in the demon realm.”
He closed his eyes and went still for several seconds. When he opened them again I saw cold focus in place of the anger. “Basement?” he asked.
“Middle doorway on the right side of the hall,” I said with a gesture toward the back door. “Let me know if you need anything.” I watched him stride off, then turned to Bryce. “Intense much?”
“You should’ve seen him a week ago,” he said grimly. “He’s out for blood. I understand why, but I hope it doesn’t get in the way of what needs to be done here.”
“You and me both,” I said with a sigh. “C’mon, you can take the guest room, and once y’all settle in we can sit down and make a plan.”
